Mentally Defective
by kigesaru
Summary: America is lost and confused as he is dragged into a strange, suspicious building where he finds many of his friends to be, as well. He can't remember anything before this happened, and all he knows is that Canada is the enemy.
1. Confused

_Hey, guys. This is Kiera. Sorry for the long Hiatus. So much stuff was going on. But I have a new story that might peak everyone's interest as it explores the dark side of a relatively sweet and innocent character. I'll let you discover what I mean. ;D Please enjoy 'Mentally Defective' and do tell me what you think! Thanks a million~_

_- Germany._

**Chapter One**

America lifted his head slowly. He felt groggy and numb everywhere. As his focus swam in and out, he saw the building. It was large, white and very welcoming, but he knew it couldn't be good.

America clenched his fists slightly, and in that action, he began to feel the heavy hands on his shoulders. Alfred lolled his head to see who had a hold of him. On his left was a large black man with an unreadable expression on his hardened face. On the right was a large white man who had a small smile upon his profile. Both were dressed completely in white, but the white man had a small blood stain on his chest in the shape of a hand. Suddenly, a feeling of panic shot through America.

He summoned any strength he could pull out of the foggy haze of his mind and tried to run out of the grasp of the two men. They only jerked him back violently to where America nearly fell to the ground. They continued walking closer to the building.

America wanted to say something but his tongue was heavy, so anything he attempted to say came out slurred. Alfred kicked his feet and screamed as loud as possible. He didn't understand what was going on, but for some reason he knew he was incapable of rational thought. He thrashed and screamed until the black man stopped. The white man soon followed suit and both stared him down deeply. America glanced from face to face repeatedly, trying to determine who is more dangerous. His eyes locked onto that odd smile of the white mans and he punched him right in the lip. The mans grip faltered and America teared away from both of them, or so he thought.

Alfred was whipped right into the black man's chest and he was surprised. But then he remembered the black mans grip on his arm and he grimaced. Before Alfred could recompose himself, he was thrusted onto the shoulder of the black man with the other following close behind. The mans lip was bloody but that smile of his had never faltered. America was confused, but a searing pain in his right hand made him yell out. He looked down at the affliction and his eyes widened. His hand was wrapped up tightly and the gauze was extremely bloody. He could practically see it pulsing as the pain shot through his arm. What ever wound he had in his hand was just made worse when he punched his current pursuer. What had happened?

As the man carried Alfred into the building, the sun disappeared and the only thing America could see was darkness. The air around him was cold and smelled sickly-sweet. He closed his eyes as the smell made his head swim and the world around him spun. He was starting to feel extremely nauseous when suddenly all movement had stopped.

America was sat down on something firm and sturdy, and then he was forced to lie down. He felt something cool come across his wrists, ankles and torso, and then he felt a warm hand lightly touch his forearm. Alfred tried to move his head, but something was restricting him from doing so. And then a voice came from in front of him.

"I never expected to see you here, Alfred..." The hand moved up to touch his face. "You always seem so confident and ready... But I suppose that became your downfall. Am I right, poor soul?"

America couldn't answer. The smell was becoming too much to bare, and he could barely focus on the voice.

"Right. I'm sorry to see you here, actually. But when someone is in need of being healed, I must heed to the call... I'm sure your friends will be happy to see you, but I will have to have a bit of a- talk- with them before I allow that to happen," the voice moved a bit farther away, but it returned with a clinking sound. Like someone was flicking glass. "Now, Alfred, you are going to feel a small pinch and are going to get very sleepy..." Something sharp pierced America's flesh in his wrist and and unpleasant feeling took him over.

"Ah, there we go. Don't worry, we'll see eachother again. Just try and relax, eh?" And then the voice was gone. America's eyes widened as realization flooded his senses. He didn't recognize the voice before because he was so disoriented.

Alfred felt the anesthetic take him over as he slowly became unaware of the outside world. The last thing he was thinking before he was pulled under forced sleep was that the voice belonged to Matty.


	2. Matty

**Chapter Two**

_Uhh... _America began to stir. _I-I can't see anything... _Even as he opened his eyes, everything was still dark. Not that it mattered; his head was still immobile. There was one thing missing in the situation, however, and it was that terrible smell. America still couldn't figure out what it could have been, but he was happy that it no longer lingered in the air.

Alfred tried to turn on his side, but something still had him strapped into what ever he was lying on. He attempted to move his feet, but nothing had changed there, either. America sighed out of defeat and laid there, still groggy from the anesthetic.

America listened to a slight buzzing that sounded throughout the unknown area. He didn't understand where it could be coming from, because the only thing he could tie it to was fluorescent lights and it was dark. He couldn't see anything.

Alfred pondered the oddity as he moved his hand up to scratch an itch on his face. _Wait... _Alfred thought. _My hands are free? _He moved his arms put to his side to confirm what he hadn't known before. _Am I really that stupid to not notice this?_

Alfred inched his fingers up his face, and as he inched closer to his eyes, he felt something that felt like cloth. _Oh? And what is this? _He tore the cloth from his face and instantly shielded his eyes again. The light from the fluorescent blinded his unadjusted eyes, and as the became adjusted, he slowly moved his hands from his eyes.

_So, I'm in a room of some sort... And it seems to be small. _Alfred wasn't sure how large the room had been to this point, but it was obvious now as he saw how far the lights stretched.

_I don't remember having a blindfold on before... Maybe it really was dark at first and they had just placed it on me after they knocked me out. _America's free hand wandered to the leather strap that restricted his head from movement. He felt around until he found a buckle. He undid the strap and moved his head side to side, relieving the stress that had been put into his neck.

_Ah... That's better. And now I can get a better look around. _America looked to his left and felt instant deja vu. _Hey... This looks a lot like a doctors office! _And it did. There was a counter with jars of tongue compressors and cotton balls, a stethoscope and other medical tools sitting upon it. Above the counter was a series of cabinets that probably held more medical supplies, as well. A few feet in front of him was a metal tray that had syringes and vials placed about it. And inside the trash can beside the tray was bloody gauze that Alfred assumed was from his hand. He now looked at his hand and noted that they must have replaced the soiled gauze.

Alfred let his hands wander to the strap around his waist and he unbuckled that, as well. He sat up and twisted his back until he heard his joints popped. As he twisted it the other way, he noticed a clipboard that sat beside the right side of his bed on a small wooden table.

Curious, he picked it up and analysed the paper clipped to it. Most of it were terms he didn't understand, but assumed to be medicinal prescriptions, but at the bottom was a note jotted down in a neat hand writing that he recognised to be Matty's.

_Notes:_

_I really am surprised to see Alfred here. I would have expected him to be smart enough to escape the tortuous hands of.. Nevermind. That isn't important. This is going to be really hard for me, but I can't go against his wishes... Unless I want to end up like the rest. I know he is going to take a lot of work, but I'm sure we here at the Russo Chinese Mental Hospital will be able to get the desired effect out of him... But I know before we make him insane, we must make him believe he is already insane... _

"... R-Russo Chinese Mental Hospital?" So that's where he was. Did that mean he was insane? But that last bit in the note must have meant he wasn't, right? America barely had the time to piece everything together before he heard footsteps coming in the direction of his room.

America didn't even bother to make himself the way he was. Surely if they had unstrapped his arms, they wanted him to do something. He just sat the clipboard back in its place on the small table and waited for the footsteps to reach his door.

As he expected, they stopped before his room and the door began to open. "Listen, I know what he said, but I just have to drag this one out a bit far- Oh! You're awake. Very good." Canada ended his conversation with another person dressed in white as soon as he noticed America's upright form.

"Yeah... I'm awake... Matty, what's-"

"Hush, Alfred. Tell me, how're you feeling."

America looked at him quizically and answered, "Uhm... I feel fine. Except I'm hungry."

"Aha~ Yes, he feels fine," said Canada to the small female. "America, could you unstrap your feet and turn towards the metal tray for me? I need to give you a dose of ginkgo biloba. It's a vitamin that promotes energy and mental focus, which is always nice to have after being injected with an Anesthetic."needle

America did as he told, somewhat trustworthy of his brother. He saw what the note said, but he doesn't think he wants to hurt him.

"Very good. I'm glad you trust me, Alfred," Canada smiled. He moved to the tray and picked up a syringe, filling it with a clear liquid from a small vial. "I was afraid you would fight me. I just want to help~"

Canada moved towards America with the syringe and motioned for him to give him his arm. America placed the back of his hand into Canada's and watched as the needle disappeared into his vein.

"There you go. You should be feeling more energized here soon." Canada patted his wrist as he placed a band aid on the area the needle had pierced.

"Yeah... Okay," America moved his hand around and watched the band aid flex and contract. "Thanks. But really, Matty, what's going on? I don't remember much of anything except being carried in here by two brutes."

"Aha~ I'm sorry about that, but you really put up a fight," Canada laughed. "I'm sorry, Alfred, but you're sick... And I'm here to make you feel better." The sweet smile America knew so well lit up Canada's face, and he slowly lost any weariness he had left. At least for now, he would trust him.

"Well, I really feel fine-"

"Oh, silly Alfred. Not physically sick. You're mentally sick. You went a little crazy a couple days ago, and were sent here."

"I... Went crazy? I'm sorry, I don't remember-"

"That's because you took a pretty nasty fall and hit your head pretty hard. I'm surprised all that did was make you forget the days before yesterday. It really could have hurt you badly, Alfred, and I'm glad the only injury you really have is your hand!" Canada laughed as he held the bandaged hand in his own.

"Hey, yeah! What did happen to my hand?"

"Oh, that's not important, Alfred. I would really like to give you a tour of the building. This is your personal doctor's office. I would like to show you the cafeteria, since you are hungry. And then you can go to your room and rest. Would you like that?"

America thought it was odd how confident Canada seemed, but was equally glad that he finally found that side of himself. He smiled. "Of course, Matty. If I'm gunna have to stay here, I should know where I'm staying, right?"

"Exactly. Come on~" Canada took America's uninjured hand and made him stand up. "Melissa, lead the way out the door~" The woman who Canada had come here with left and Canada looked up at America.

"Let's go eat, eh? You like pancakes, right?" They left the room as America nodded his head in reply.


	3. The Bird

_I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story! Some of you might think of a certain picture of Canada when reading, and it's because I was inspired to write this story from that. :P Enjoy! And don't forget to review~ Thanks. :)_

**Chapter Three**

"This, first of all, is the doctors corridor where all the doctors offices are housed," Canada spoke to America as they walked down the corridor. "There are about fifty rooms here in the corridor."

America watched as door after door passed by him and pictured for each of them to have the same scenery within them. A doctor's office is a doctor's office. "I see..." Ahead of him, he could see a break in the hallway, and there seemed to be a lot of sunlight. Alfred's mouth dropped open when he stepped out of the hallway into a beautiful glass dome.

"...Whoa." Canada looked at his surprise and laughed.

"What's wrong, Alfred?"

"Th-this place is HUGE! And beautiful!" And it really was beautiful. There were flowers and garden plants growing all around him and a light brown cobblestone walk path stretched out in front of him and curved with the plants.

"Haha~ I know. And I take care of everything all by myself. Every plant here belongs to me." Canada smiled. "No one is allowed to mess with them. But~" he paused.

"But...?"

"But there is a place where the patients can sit so they can get some sun. Come on, I'll show you!" Canada tugged America along the path and they curved once left and one more time right. Then they came upon a large opening. America gasped.

It was a meadow, a perfect circular meadow. Flowers of every color littered the grass and a small, reflective pond surrounded by decorative stones was on the far right. A single dove landed on the bamboo plants that grew beside the pond and it flapped its wings, as if to say hello to Alfred.

"Whoa... Matty. This place is amazing!"

"Do you like it? Really?" Canada asked shyly. "I wanted to do something for my patients, considering most of this beautiful place is for me," he laughed. "Everyone seems to like it here."

"Of course I like it. It's amazing! It would be nice to come out of the gloom of insanity to some sort of brightness..." America commented. He wouldn't mind coming here every morning.

"It's good you like it. You'll be staying here a while, so maybe it will fancy you to visit this place often."

America wasn't really paying attention to Canada. He was watching the dove clean it's feathers. It looked at him and cocked its head a bit, and then went back to cleaning itself. He looked to Canada.

"Hey, Matty?"

"Yes, Alfred? What is it?"

"That bird over there on there... Does it have a name?"

Canada looked around. "Bird...? What bird? I don't see one."

"Right over there, on the bamb- What the hell? Where did it go?" America had pointed in the direction where the curious bird had been, but now it was gone. "Huh. Musta flew away..." He looked around the dome, hoping to see it fly by.

Canada stared at America strangely, and then shook his head. "America, there are no birds in this dome. I don't allow for it, because I don't want them to eat my plants."

America turned to Canada, surprised. "Wait. Are you calling me crazy or something?" He thought this was stupid. It was only a bird, but still, it was strange for Matty to say he doesn't allow birds in the dome...

"Well, Alfred. You are in a mental hospital, after all. I'm not calling you crazy, exactly. It's okay, I accept your mental deficiencies." he smiled.

Alfred glared at him, but decided it wasn't worth the fight. His stomach growled, and he grabbed it. "Hey, Matty? Think we could move on to the cafeteria? I'm starving."

Canada looked at his watch and smiled. "Yes. It's the perfect time to show you the cafeteria. Lunch has just ended and everyone should be off doing their activities..."

"How is that perfect timing? We missed lunch!"

"Oh, Alfred. It's perfect for me, considering I don't want you to meet any of the other patients yet."

America just nodded. He wasn't sure why he wouldn't want for him to meet anyone yet, but he supposed that would be best. He wasn't sure what he should expect from people in an insane asylum.

"C'mon," Canada put a hand on Alfred's shoulder and began to pull him in the direction of the exit. "Let's go eat."

"So, this is the cafeteria, then?" Alfred and Matty were now sitting in the cafeteria at on of the circular, white cloth tables. Okay, so the cloth wasn't completely white. It seemed like people were allowed to write and draw on the cloth, given there was a large tub of art supplies underneath a window.

"Mhm. Indeed it is. What does it remind you of, eh?"

Alfred looked around. All the walls were painted to mimic a sort of playground, complete with painted playing equipment and paint children running around, enjoying their creative world. "Well, it reminds me of a pre-school in a way..."

"Exactly! I wanted my patients to feel young and happy, so I decided to do something that would facilitate the memories of their childhood. They are also allowed to draw on the table clothes. In't that fun?"

"Yeah, it's wonderful," Alfred didn't know about this place making him feel young and happy. It kind of made him feel like he was helpless, much like a small child is. "It's great you think of your patients."

A large woman approached them with two plated, each stacked high with golden-brown pancakes. Alfred's mouth began to water at the sight of the filling food.

The woman sat the plates down and looked at Alfred. She smiled. "Here you go, dear. Freshly cooked pancakes all for you!" She patted his head and Alfred scowled. "I'll be right back with your maple syrup, okay, sweety?"

Canada noticed the scowl on America's face, so he turned to the lady. "Yes, Mildred. That would be great." The woman gave one last sweet smile and went back through the metal swinging doors.

Canada turned his gaze on America. "Be nice to the staff of the hospital, okay? They're here to help, too."

"But she talked to me like I was a child! I am not a child... I'm America!" He crossed his arms and looked off to the side in frustration.

"Aha~ Well, you sure are acting like a child right now, don'tcha think?" Canada laughed.

"Shut up! I am not acting like a-" Alfred stopped himself. He really was sounding like a child right now. It shouldn't be new, because he often acted like he was a self-obsessed child, but he wasn't the type to admit that.

"See? I beg for you to calm down. Mildred is returning with the syrup."

The large woman known as Mildred ame up to them with a bottle of syrup and she sat it in front of Alfred. "There you go. Something to put on your pancakes that is as sweet as you~" She pinched one of his cheeks. "You are just too cute!" She smiled at him one more time and left them once again.

"There that's better. Just let them be nice to you. It won't cause you any harm~"

"Yeah yeah..." America muttered in reply. He was pouring a ridiculous amount of syrup on his pancake stack and he took a large bite.

"So... If I'm insane, what exactly is wrong with me?" he asked with a mouth full of moist breakfast. There must be some sort of term to describe his 'illness'.

"Well, we're not allowed to reveal that to the patient. We're here to make sure they're healthy and to try and help them overcome their illness."

America looked at him, confused. "But wouldn't it help them get better if they knew what they were fighting?"

Canada laughed. "Oh, no. I think it's best for everything to be left to the experts. Your job is to have fun, relax, and get along with everyone else." He smiled sweetly.

America wasn't so sure about everything he was hearing. Then again, he didn't know much about psychology either. He thought he should scope this place out a little more, and then decide if it was legit or not.

"Okay... You're the doctor, I guess." America shoveled another large bite into his mouth, and already, a third of his pancakes were gone. Canada just picked at his food. He kept glancing up at Alfred with a strange look of analysis. America decided to put that in the back of his mind, since he already promised himself he would wait before he jumped to conclusions.

"Alfred, are you ready to see your room, yet? I have some things that need to be tended to..."

Alfred shoved the last bite in his mouth and swallowed. "Yup. I'm all set," He got up. "Lead the way, brother/doctor of mine!"

Canada laughed. "Okay. Follow me, Alfred."


End file.
